The Marauders' Legacy
by TheUnholySmirk
Summary: First in the Aura Series. Harry's been entered into the Triwizard, totally against his will. What happens when Hermione doesn't approve of "his choice?" Harry discovers a secret as old as the school itself, but what does his father's group of pranking friends have to do with it? Not Slash. Bash!fic, but with a twist. Special thanks to Phoenixfromthefire for being an awesome beta!
1. I Solemnly Swear

Aura "Everybody has an Aura. I do, you do, your future children and their own offspring, Auras are everywhere. They define you, what you are, what you were, what you will be next Tuesday, all wrapped up into a single concept, a single idea, a single characteristic. They're unchanging. They're. . . everything."- …

—TheUnHolySmirk—

Dumbledore pointed his wand at his throat and spoke with a magically enhanced voice. "THE GOBLET HAS CHOSEN!"

The effect was immediate. The once cheery, loud and excited hall seemed to hold its breath. Even Neville, the normally shy and clumsy boy sitting four seats away from Harry, was sitting petrified and staring at the burning cup.

Everyone, save the teachers and Ministry officials, gasped when the flickering sky blue flames flickered to a deep red orange. A single tendril rose higher than the rest and withdrew just as quickly. A scorched, but clearly decorated, piece of parchment fluttered down into the Headmaster's waiting hand. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"The Triwizard Champion from Beauxbatons is. . . Fleur Delacour!" There was an impressive roar as the male population of three schools all tried to show their appreciation for the French beauty in the loudest, most supportive way possible. Dumbledore didn't have to manually take control himself. The hall hushed when the goblet turned red once more.

"The Triwizard Champion from Durmstrang will be. . . Viktor Krum." The applause was softer and not as obnoxious this time, but the amount of it was much more evened out among the masses.

"No surprises there, mate." Ron muttered, a grin on his face.

Harry looked at the red-headed beanpole and raised an eyebrow. "You've got yourself a little crush, huh?"

Ron elbowed him in the ribs, laughing and joking for a good minute or two.

"Who d'you think that the Hogwarts champion's gonna be?" Harry asked him.

"I don't know. I hope Angelina, but Diggory's getting all the support."

"Bet you a sickle it's him."

"You're on!"

"It appears that the Goblet is confused for the moment. Let us return to the feast as we wait for it to choose the third Champion. For the first time in history, the Goblet requires more than twenty-four hours to decide. Carry on!"

Everyone stared at the cup, eyes wide at this new development.

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Well I guess we've got to wait a bit."

"Scared?"

"You wish."

"Can you two just be quiet? Shut up and have some pie." Hermione scolded, serving Harry a plate with a piece of pumpkin pie topped with whipped cream. The bespectacled teen froze, staring at the offered desert with shock.

Halloween.

From the death of his parents to Sirius breaking into Hogwarts, Halloween has never been pleasant.

"Harry? Are you alright?" His reminiscing was interuppted by a voice that he wasn't used to hearing directed towards him.

Harry's head snapped up and turned towards the source of the sound.

"Oh. Ginny. Umm… yeah, I'm fine. Just a-"

"Then why do you look like you want to run?" she asked with just enough suspicion to get Hermione to turn her head to watch him closely, which forced Ron to turn as well.

"Well I- what?" his wavering voice rose an octave.

"Harry…" Ginny's tone clearly stated that it would be rather undesirable to give her an answer she doesn't want to hear.

"Oh… well…" his pause told her all she needed to here.

Now both Ron and Hermione were focused on him as well, putting their argument on a stand-by.  
"She's right Harry," Hermione piped up in a whisper, "I can still see your hand shaking from here. What is it? Is it your scar? You really should talk to Madam Pomfrey. It can't mean anything good."

"I'm fine!" Harry sighed. "It has nothing to do with my scar. It's just-" he took a breath, "This holiday makes me nervous."

"This what?" Ron asked. "You mean Halloween?"

"Just think about it." Harry hastened to explain. "First year with the troll, second year with Mrs. Norris' petrification, third year with Padfoot."

"But Padfoot wasn't actually going to hurt you." Hermione pointed out, disbelieving.

"Sure we know that now, but we didn't then.

"The Goblet has made its decision on the final Champion. Please turn your attention to the front!"

"My instincts have never let me down before." Harry mumbled, "Why would they now?"

"THE TRIWIZARD CHAMPION FOR HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY IS…" he paused for dramatics, ignoring the amused whispers of favoritism, "CEDRIC DIGGORY!"

People in the populated areas in Scotland would later speculate on distant thunder that sounded without a cloud in sight.

The noise was deafening. People weren't even saying anything. They were just screaming as loud as they could. The polite claps from Slytherin were completely drowned out by the other three quarters of the school.

An average person could just barely make out the start of coherent words.

"DIGGORY! DIGGORY! DIGGORY!" As more people heard the chant, they followed suit. The volume and clarity rose exponentially as the rest of the hall joined in.

"DIGGORY! DIGGORY! DIGGORY! DIGGORY!"

Harry caught a few Slytherin girls cheering with everyone else, unabashed.

Everyone was on cloud nine. Harry felt like nothing could ruin the mood from Hogwarts for the rest of the night…

But then the Goblet of Fire turned red.

It took all of two seconds for everyone to freeze, the Great Hall quite enough to hear a quill drop, and those were made of feathers.

For the fourth time that night, a single tendril of vibrant red flame reached up to the heavens. When it retreated, a single scrap of charred parchment seemed to be suspended midair. It started its floaty, innocent decent into Dumbledore's waiting hand.

"Harry Potter."

Harry froze. No. Dammit, this isn't happening again. He silently willed himself to shrink away from the glares and sneers coming in a low tremor from the rest of the students, trying his best to ignore the angry mutters. Making a split second decision, he jumped under the table and slipped on his Cloak of Invisibility.

Seamus Finnegan was the first to notice that he was no longer under the table. "Harry?"

Said teenaged wizard was halfway to the double doors when a voice boomed out.

"WHERE D'YOU THINK YOU'RE GOIN', POTTER!?"

It wasn't possible. Moody shouldn't be able to see him while he was under his Cloak, nobody should.

"Magical concealment can't fool the best, boy."

Harry stared up at the man, silently begging him to not remove the useful nature of owning an invisibility cloak.

"That's quite the powerful disillusionment charm ya got there, Potter. Never mind the fact that you shouldn't be able to achieve one at all. That's advanced magic, that is."

Harry looked at the gnarled old professor and mouthed a silent 'thank you'. He then took out his wand and shot a notice-me-not charm at the cloak, before taking it off.

Of course he then had to deal with the whispers of "powerful" and "he's dark" that spread through the hall like a wildfire.

"Er… thanks, professor." he said in a small, detached voice.

"Up you come, Harry." Dumbledore's voice rang out. "To the side room." The wizened old headmaster didn't use the sonorus charm, but he didn't need to.

"To the back room, please."

Harry was hesitant. Dumbledore almost seemed… satisfied. That expression made him wary of his mentor. It was only visible for a split second, and he could have imagined it. "No you didn't." A small voice said in the back of his mind. "You know you didn't."

That may have been, but before Harry could investigate his thoughts further, he found himself in and ornate hall he had never previously been in. "Hmm, I don't remember walking."

"Harry? What are you doing back here? Do they need us?" Cedric asked.

"Oh, hey Cedric. Umm… No… Well you see… Well I-" he stammered, feeling very nervous all of the sudden.

"Zen what are you doing here?" A heavily accented voice interrupted him. Harry hated being interrupted. Reminded him too much of the Dursleys.

"Well, you see, I-" The pompous French girl cut him off again. Harry was beginning to become very irritated.

"Zis area is for the champions only, non?"

"I know! I'm trying to tell you that I-" Harry near-shouted.

"Zhen why are you here?" she repeated smugly, cutting the very peeved boy-who-lived off again.

Never before in his life had Harry felt such a strong urge to hex a smile off of someone's face, not even one Draco Malfoy. A breeze had started to pick up as dark maroon and black wispy smoke started to crawl from the teen's clenched fists.

"Listen," he ground out with such malice that the Frenchwoman stepped back in shock, before regaining composure.

BAM! The doors slammed open and five wizards and two witches all strided into the at an alarmingly fast rate. All seven of them looked extremely intimidating and in two cases, very angry.

Igor Karkaroff pushed passed the other six and advanced on Harry. Before the latter knew what was happening, Karkaroff had picked him up by his robes and slammed him into the stone wall.

Harry gaped in fear at the red-faced man that was glaring at him with deep loathing and malice. "HOW DID YOU DO IT, BOY?" Karkaroff shouted in his face. When Harry didn't offer an answer he screamed madly, "TELL ME!"

"Flipendo Duo!" cried three voices in unison.

Karkaroff was blown backwards at an alarming rate, similar to being shot out of a cannon. The man crashed through a shelf of mysterious objects, which all shattered as they impacted the floor. He gasped in pain while laying in the shards, a few piercing his skin. Blood trickled from his nose and his chest rose and fell slowly. He was still alive.

Unfortunately.

Shakingly, Karkaroff slowly stood up stopping his nose bleed and closing his various with a wave of his wand. "What is the meaning of this!"

Dumbledore spoke softly, but with a detached humor Harry had never heard before. "I cannot allow you to manhandle and attack my students, Igor."

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Cedric shouted. Viktor Krum looked outraged.

"You must learn your place, Englishman. Show some respect." the Bulgarian seeker growled at the Sixth Year Hufflepuff.

Professor McGonagall looked absolutely livid. She was so upset that her natural Scottish brogue was traceable. "How you dare!" she shouted, red-faced. "If I find you ever laying a hand on another student, Ah'll-"

"Please refrain from yelling at our foreign guests, Minerva." Crouch interrupted.

"Right!" Bagman piped up a bit too cheerfully, "Let me introduce the Fourth Triwizard Champion!"

Silence.

"Oh, very funny Meester Bagman, but theez iz no time for jokes." The Delacour girl chuckled dryly.

"If this is a joke, I can't say I'm too fond of your Ministry's humor, Bagman." Karkaroff muttered aggressively. "You have humiliated-"

"Joke?" Bagman interrupted, "No joke."

"WHAT?!" The R.P.A.(Royal Pain in the Arse) as Harry had started calling her in his head. "Zeez leetle boy could never be allowed to compete. I have worked 'ard to get such an opportunity and honor, non? Zeez child cannot be permitted to participate, I will not stand for it!"

Harry finally spoke up. "'Little Boy'? Excuse me, but I'm taller than you!"

"YOU HAVE NO GROUNDS TO SPEAK FROM!" R.P.A. Screamed. Nobody, much less the girl, noticed the rattle of shaking glass against wooden shelves.

"Don't you raise your voice at-" he replied heatedly. The instruments were still unnoticed by the room's occupants.

"Harry did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?" Professor Dumbledore intoned calmly.

Damn! Now even Dumbledore's interrupting him? "No sir." He spoke out loud, "I had-"

"But of course he is lying." Madame Maxime added her two knuts to the pile. A small wooden stool, as well as other assorted items started to float in the air precariously. Cedric, who was the first to realize that something was happening, spoke up.

"Uhh, guys…"

"Of course he is!" Fleur said for emphasis.

"Professors? Sirs? Umm… should we be concerned?" Still he was ignored.

"Please, if you would allow me to finish my-" Harry started again with no small amount of anger and being cut off for like the eighth freaking time.

"GUYS!" Cedric warned, a bit louder and more insistent than before.

"Potter's been crossing lines since he came to this prestigious school three years ago." Snape threw in. "It was only a matter of time until he started doing it in the literal sense. Arrogant, just like his father-"

"ENOUGH!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs.

CRASH! The delicate glass cases and jars all shattered into powder, and a large, impressive looking crystalline aesthetic structure exploded, scattering the pieces onto the floor, melted and deformed. The flying objects, that had taken to orbiting the group at alarming speeds, were blown backward, crashing into more shelves and the cold stone walls.

A small metal object with no visible purpose was red hot, and melted before everyone's eyes; turning unrecognizable from its previous state of beauty.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and for the first time since he had met the man, Harry detected fear in his voice. "Harry," he spoke in a hushed tone, "I need you to calm down."

The topic of conversation could feel something, churning inside him, building up, waiting to be released. Something that gave of a feeling of elation, complete and total happiness. Yet it had an undertone of violence, of anger and rage. It felt welcoming and terrifying all at the same time.

"Mr. Potter?" Crouch said with as much dignity as he could muster, "I am a high authority ministry official, and I am ordering you to stand down. Now."

Harry stared at his hands. They had become horribly fascinating. The same way one would find the most dangerous weapon on earth fascinating. His knuckles were white, and a deep purplish-red smoke was rolling off of his closed fingers. He forced his disobedient hands open, and the substance receded to a simple, multi-coloured glow.

The boy knew what this was. He simply knew, as if he had known his entire life.

'This is magic,' he thought to himself, 'but I don't need it yet.' And with that, the glow faded entirely.

"So," he said outloud to the crowd, ignoring their stares, "who feels up to discussing the 'magical artifact' that can't count?"

—TheUnHolySmirk—

Harry quite literally stormed out of the room an hour later, the doors slamming open without him ever touching them. He completely ignored the suits of armor bursting apart when he past them, as well as the winds whipping around him, bellowing his robes out.

He couldn't hear the voice calling out to him, and barely even noticed Peeves fly in front of him to dish out torment, only to scream in pain and fall from the sky. He stepped right through the semitransparent face, which then dispersed with a haunting scream.

"Harry!" A hand grabbed his shoulder and held Harry panicked and whirled around, his fist glowing and sparking the same way it had previously. It was well on its way towards the nose of Harry's 'attacker'.

Harry was staring into the terrified eyes of Cedric Diggory, despite the latter being nearly three years older. They both froze in those positions, before Harry slowly drew his arm back.

"Dammit Diggory, now I'm holding it in." Harry half-mumbled to himself.

Cedric gaped at him. He cleared his throat. "Holding what in, exactly."

Harry turned around and slammed his closed fist, still shimmering, into the wall.

"Oh," he said, shocked as he stared at the fist sized hole in the stone. "...That."

The older wizard's eyes were drawn to the hand previously imbedded in solid stone, which was still smoking. Harry just bore his flashing eyes into Cedric's skull, waiting for him to speak. It took the latter a while to realize that he had been invited to talk.

"Well," he started, still nervously glancing at the dent, "I just wanted to let you know that I believe you."

The fuming teenager froze. He was so shocked that his closed fist stopped smoking.

"What?" Harry asked, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

"I believe you." Cedric repeated, with a bit more confidence in himself.

"Hm." Harry pondered this welcome change of atmosphere, "It feels nice."

"What does?"

"To have someone listen to me for once." Harry elaborated, "Normally people simply assume the worst of me, never bothering to listen to my story, that sort of thing."

"Er, okay?" Cedric half-asked/half-stated.

"Was that it?"

"What?" Harry just stared at him. "Wha- Oh! Oh! Yeah that was it." He finished with a mumble.

"Alright then." With that the raven-haired champion turned around and paced away, albeit more calmly than before.

Cedric just watched as Harry walked away, and when the latter reached the end of the corridor, he paused in his stride. "Thanks." he spoke, without looking back. He turned the corridor and vanished.

—TheUnHolySmirk—

Harry stopped at the portrait hole. There was no way that people were still in the common room at the current time, but then again, this was the house of Fred and George Weasley.

'Wait a minute, I can just ask The Fat Lady.' he thought.

"Uh, excuse me Mrs. Lady…" No that didn't sound right. He wasn't about to address her as Ms. 'Oh what the hell!'

"What's your name?" the boy asked, slightly out of curiousity, slightly stalling for time.

Whatever answer the portrait was expecting, that wasn't it. "What?" she sputtered, blushing slightly.

"What's your name?" he repeated.

"Well I never…" Harry wondered if this question was rude to paintings. "The only person to ever ask me for my name before you was your great grandfather, but he never did until he became Head Boy in his seventh year.

"Runs in the family I guess, you know, skipping three or so generations." he responded rather shyly, not anticipating such a response.

"Hmm," she pondered. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well in my head, and I'm assuming most of the rest of Gryffindor as well, I call you 'the Fat Lady.'" he explained. "I don't think you would find that title very flattering."

The woman preened rather flustered, and Harry had visions of a rather proud bird that had just conquered a worm, not that he was going to tell her that.

"I should expect not."

"Well then what is it?"

"Verdetta."

"Hmm?"

"My name is Verdetta." she told him, flushing.

"Ver-det-ta," he sound out, hearing how it sounded. "I like it."

"Alright then Verdetta," he enunciated despite her small blush. "Mind telling what awaits me behind that door of yours?"

"Oh just one girl. At first there was nearly the entire house, but they all cleared out after an hour." Verdetta said quickly. "It's that young woman that you're always around, Grain-jur, I think."

"Hermione? Bushy hair? Boorkworm?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?" She glanced up, "Oh, yes, her."

"Thank you."

"Anytime Mr. Potter. Anytime." The portrait swung forward without Harry ever giving the password.

It was just as Verdetta said, the room was empty, a snack table was off to the side, forgotten. Bottles and plates littered various areas of the common room, and the fire gave off an eerie light. Harry scanned the room, and there, in his favorite chair before the fire, was Hermione.

Harry walked forward slowly, nearly on his tiptoes. "Hermione?" All he got in return was a broken sob. He realized that in his nervous state he spoke nearly silently.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence. "Hermione?" He repeated louder.

The previously quaking girl froze. "What do you want, Potter?" She said his name with so much venom, mocking it. Her tone was colder than ice and harsher than rock. Harry unconsciously stepped back.

"Hermione? What did I do?" Harry asked tentatively, afraid of striking a nerve.

She laughed. Not her usual quiet laugh of joy and amusement, but it was sarcastic. Angry and openly savage. Harry flinched at the sound.

"You-" she didn't complete the thought, instead making a muffled sound of general frustration. "You just couldn't help yourself could you? You just couldn't stay away." Her voice was shaky, whether from anger or crying, Harry couldn't tell.

Then it all clicked. And Harry resigned himself to the fact that he knew would crush him as soon as it sunk in.

Hermione doesn't believe me either.

Harry was mad again. He forced the feeling of bliss down and tried to calm himself. It won't do well to destroy the common room right now. People would talk. "Stay away from what, exactly?" He was trying to keep his tone light, but faltered at 'what'.

"Stay away from what?" She repeated, goading him. "STAY AWAY FROM WHAT?!" she shrieked. "GOD DAMMIT HARRY!" she swore, exploding out of her chair and glaring at him. Hermione never swore.

"THAT BLOODY TOURNAMENT!"

That did it. Harry was on his feet as well, though not yelling quite as loud as she was. "You are an idiot if you think that I put my name inside that Gobl-"

"YOU DON'T CALL ME AN IDIOT, POTTER!" she screamed, "I CAN THINK WHAT I WANT!" Harry just stared at her. She cut him off. She never cut him off, not ever. She knew better. She knew. His hands started to shimmer slightly as smoke began to curl from his palms.

"YOU JUST COULDN'T WAIT FOR TROUBLE TO FIND YOU THIS YEAR, COULD YOU?! THE FAME AND RECOGNITION OF BEING THE BOY-WHO-LIVED, SAVIOUR OF THE PHILOSOPHERS STONE, SLAYER OF BASILISKS, DEFEATER OF A HUNDRED DEMENTORS AND PRIME ENEMY OF YOU-KNOW-WHO WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH!

"BUT NO! NO AMOUNT OF GLORY CAN PROPERLY SATIATE THE INFLATED HEAD OF HARRY POTTER!" At this point she had tears running down her face, and a few people were in the common room, watching the exchange. "OF COURSE, FIVE TITLES IS TOO FEEBLE FOR THE GRAND HEIR OF POTTERS! THE FOURTH TRIWIZARD CHAMPION! THAT HAS A NICE RING TO IT, DOESN'T IT?!" Now everyone was downstairs, observing the pair as Hermione started to reach decibels and pitches never before thought possible by humans. She took a breath, and Harry thought she might be done.

He was wrong.

"AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL US- YOUR BEST FRIENDS- ABOUT IT! RON DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO WAIT FOR YOU!"

Harry watched her rant, his mouth an invisible line. He started to shake, and his already glowing hands began to throw off light in earnest. He opened his mouth. "Yell right back," he thought, "She has no right to shout at me!" But all he could do is open his mouth, before closing it again. He couldn't find the words to display his feeling of betrayal, his anger at her audacity, The colour started to climb up his arm, and flared.

Darkness.

Murmurs of confusion, and 'Lumos' washed over the crowd.

About forty wands lit up. The white glow cast multi-directional shadows across the walls, giving off a very haunted look. It was to the shock of many to see no less than seven house elves sobbing in front of the once crackling fireplace, their efforts to relight the flame were in vain. Hermione was the first to speak.

A few heads turned towards Harry, some staring in awe, some in fear. A great few stare with disgust. 'That's how Harry Potter treated his friends' He could practically 'hear' in their faces.

"That isn't possible." The elves' crying began anew in earnest. "It says so in Hogwarts, A History that the fireplaces will always burn, they simply need tending to every day. Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor themselves cast the protection charms."

"Yeah well I seem to have a knack for kicking 'Impossible' into the ground and crushing his balls under my heel." Harry bit out icily. "We play Exploding Snap on Thursdays." A few muggleborns warily chuckled, before a venomous glare from Harry shut them up. "I've seen all I need to. I know where the loyalty of Gryffindor lies. In first year we're all told that our house is to be our family at Hogwarts. Good to know you all live up to the standards of my muggle relatives."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out the portrait hole.

The Gryffindor common room was filled to the brim with a deafening silence. Until, of course, it was promptly interrupted.

Whispers began anew, and not a small amounts of accusations and bitter mutterings about 'arrogant teenagers who didn't know their station' were rampant all around the gathered crowd.

The new voice seemed to explode. It reached volumes and frequencies that surpassed Hermione's, and made the entire 'house of the brave' take several steps back.

"HOW… BLOODY… DARE YOU!" A few people were briefly reminded of the mandrakes from two years previous and deeply wished for one of Professor Sprout's noise cancelling earmuffs, even the fluffy pink ones.

"YOU'VE KNOWN HARRY FOR OVER THREE YEARS! THREE! AND YOU WOULD ACTUALLY BELIEVE HE DID THIS?!" Several heads swivelled to locate the source of the voice, if one could call it that. Those who found it pointed her out to the others.

Ginny Weasley was yelling into the face of Hermione Granger for all she was worth.

"HE HATES FAME! ANY HALF-TROLL WOULD KNOW THAT! MERLIN! HAVE HIM WRITE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, I SWEAR ON MY MAGIC THAT IT'D BE A WHOLE BUNCH OF HIPPOGRIFF SHITE ABOUT HAVING HELP OR BEING LUCKY! WHY? BECAUSE THAT'S JUST WHO HE IS!

"NEED I REMIND YOU OF A CERTAIN TROLL THAT WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU IF IT WEREN'T FOR HARRY. OR MAYBE PERHAPS THE MORGANA FUCKING BASILISK THAT HE FOUGHT WITH A MERLIN DAMNED SWORD OF ALL THINGS! THE SAME BASILISK THAT ATTACKED YOU.

"OR NO! PERHAPS THE HUNDRED PLUS DEMENTORS THAT HE FOUGHT OFF ALONE WITH A SINGLE CORPOREAL PATRONUS THAT HE SHOULDN'T HAVE EVEN BEEN ABLE TO CAST?! OR SIRIUS FUCKING BLACK, THE DERANGED MADMAN THAT HE WAS WILLING TO PROTECT YOU FROM? RISKING LIFE AND LIMB AND NOT EVEN ACCEPTING A THANK YOU?!

"BUT OBVIOUSLY NONE OF THAT MATTERS TO YOU!" She then turned to the rest of the crowd. "YOU ALL MAKE ME SICK!" And for the final time, she stared down Hermione Granger's angry scowl. "I hope you know that you threw away your only real friend. If it wasn't for Harry, Ron wouldn't give a damn about you, and you know it. We'll see if he still does." Ginny glared at everyone once more in displeasure, before leaving the same way Harry did.

—TheUnHolySmirk—

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Harry watched in practiced fascination at the lines of the Marauders' Map being drawn before his very eyes, before a deep grinding of stone on stone diverted his attention to the painting he had just passed. What was this?

It was a portrait. One that Harry had never seen before. Though, given he didn't recognize the part of the castle he was in, that wasn't much of a stretch. On it was a cartoonish version of a large african lion, a medium sized badger, a curling snake, some bird, possibly an eagle, and a wolf-like creature that Harry realized had to be a werewolf. The noise finally quieted with a satisfying thunk before there was a click and the portrait swung outward.

Harry looked down at the map. Where there had previously been blank wall, ink began to to trace out new lines and contours of a passage that even the Weasley twins may not have known about.

Harry looked back. "What do you have to lose?" he told himself, before stepping through.

The bespectacled boy crawled into a small space that could barely allow him to fit with any wiggle room. While attempting to figure out what to do from there, the painting swung back into place. Panicking, Harry tried to push with his foot to pop the painting back out, but it wouldn't budge. After a minute of useless struggle, he remembered how he found the small nook in the first place.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered, in case some stragglers happened to be out on a stroll two feet away from him. Nothing.

"Wait!" he froze, before mentally face palming. "Duh."

George's words echoed in his mind. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it or anyone can read it."

"Mischief managed," As soon as he got out the last syllable, the floor under his stomach vanished and he fell through, head first.

Meanwhile, down the corridor in a broom closet, dark, slightly sweaty hair was messed up even further when Cedric Diggory's head swivelled. "What was that?"

"Shhh" Cho Chang whispered alluringly. "Nothing Ced, baby. Don't talk. Keep going." Cedric shrugged and continued his downward trek, pushing the faint screaming sound into the back of his subconscious.

It took Harry about seven seconds to realize that he wasn't in free fall. He could feel the textures of a very slick material under his front, and he was moving at a steep angle.

He was on a slide.

The blood was slowly rushing towards his head as the force of gravity was winning over inertia and his feet didn't feel quite so heavy.

Harry couldn't tell just how long he was moving before he was promptly deposited face first into a plump couch. His nose was going to be sore for a while.

After gathering his bearings, and placing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, Harry stood up and let his eyes scan around the new room. It could be very well be described simply as 'cozy'.

There was the couch he landed in, the cushions stuffed fully for comfort. An indoor fire pit, rather than the common flue and mantle found throughout the rest of the castle, took up a good square meter of space. Metal rods and racks cluttered around it hinted at a potions stand. There was a small table next to one of the armchairs that held a lamp and drawer, and each chair was colored a neutral grey.

The walls themselves were a nice cream color, and glowing balls of light hung in the air. Off to the side was a small kitchen, stocked with the proper blades and utensils for making a casual meal. Even a refrigerator, toaster and microwave was preset, though none of the cabinets or drawers was stocked with anything. That would have to be rectified. Through an open door, Harry could make out the outline of a queen sized bed. The entire setup was about twice as big as Hagrid's Hut, and could be a reasonable place to live.

"It's not like you're going back to the tower," Harry thought with a bitter chuckle, before he walked over the threshold of the bedroom. He just missed one of the armchairs fading from the grey to a black, with emerald green highlights.

—TheUnHolySmirk—

A/N: Wow. Okay, so I came up with this idea a while go, even went as far to handwrite over a hundred pages. I made quite a few changes in here, but the idea is the same. I can't find many stories where Harry becomes a new marauder, or at least one that I haven't read yet. I spend a lot of time on this site. Please send me a review, or even a PM to my account, I'd appreciate any feedback. Flames are acceptable, they make me laugh. I'm in dire need of a beta, or someone who can help me with british mannerisms. I'm only an ignorant American. W/o the A/N, the first chapter is about 5600 words, which isn't a lot, but it's a decent amount. First story, so please help me get better at writing them, I have too many ideas. Also, sorry for the all caps, but I couldn't figure out the best way to show angry shouting. 


	2. And Then There Were Four

**I don't think I need a disclaimer to say I don't own Harry Potter. I'm the wrong gender, first off. SO I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!**

 **OH MY GOD! Apparently people enjoy the drivel I call writing! Thank you to my reviewers, you made my day. Same to the EIGHT FAVORITES and FOURTEEN FOLLOWERS!**

 _Oculomagi(singular Oculomagus) are a type of magick user that has the passive ability to perceive magic with one of the five senses. Each oculomagus perceives magic differently based on what their own Aura finds the most suitable, and when the ability develops. There have been reports of seeing flying animals to smelling flowers. The term oculomagus derives from 'eye' and 'magic', as the first oculomagus recorded, Azaroth the Absent, was reported to have seen different species of faeries when detecting magic._

* * *

-TheUnHolySmirk-

* * *

Ginny Weasley was upset. Rather pissed off, actually. She was tired, sore and slightly saddened by the fate of one Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Of course, after about an hour and a half of _looking_ for said Boy her empathy was slowly turning into annoyance. Her grandmother's old pocket-watch informed her that the time was approaching an hour past midnight, and she still didn't have a clue where to start. She clicked it shut with a 'snap', and let out a frustrated sigh. Her stomach groaned in protest, begging for food.

"Fine," she scolded herself, "Just shut up!"

The young witch turned around and made her way down to the fifth floor. She came to a corner, peeked around it, and walked over to the tapestry hanging on a wall her brothers had shown her in her second year.

" _How the lion howls,_ " she whispered, while moving the cloth and tapping on the empty stone. The wall before her vanished, and she stepped through into a box just tall enough for her to stand.

The doorway leading out was replaced with stone once more, and the small space lurched backwards. The first time she had used this, Ginny was reminded of the lift at her father's work. According to her father, muggles had the same thing, _without_ magic.

Ginny was broken from her musings when the box lurched again, but in the _wrong direction_. Whereas before she was transported down at a leisurely pace, now she was being shot upwards at speeds she only had experienced once on Charlie's old broom.

Adrenaline junkie or not, she still cried out in surprise. A random voice popping from nowhere didn't help the matter at all.

" _Peace, child._ " It 'spoke'. Ginny realized that the words were forming in her head.

"'Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain._ '" her father's words from the past echoed in her head.

"Where are you taking me?" She yelled out loud, trying her hardest not to stumble over the words. The cryptic response only cemented her panic.

" _Your destiny._ "

* * *

-TheUnHolySmirk-

* * *

Luna Lovegood was lonely. While she'd never show it, her envy always would burn when watching the many cliques in Ravenclaw enjoy each other's presence. Due to her father's magazine's reputation, as well as her own quirks and behaviors, she was quickly outcasted from her "family in school."

Currently, the Third Year student was content to roam the castle until those who had locked her from the tower became bored from her lack of begging. So it's no surprise when she found herself on the Astronomy Tower. Luna was fond of high places.

But she was up there for a completely different reason. Luna can see magic. She always has. Many Lovegoods have been esteemed oculomagi, and would give aide to warders and curse-breakers. Luna was never entirely sure what exactly she was seeing, but she liked to name them. The wrackspurts were her favourite.

So naturally, a trail of wrackspurts leading to the Tower would be followed by the curious girl, regardless of where it took her. A slight widening of her eyes was the only indication of her surprise at seeing a humble looking cottage floating in mid air, a good ten feet from the west edge of the platform. A series of stepping stones led up to the small house, about 6 inches apart. None of them looked particularly stable.

Then again, Luna mused, neither was she. She hopped over the guardrail and made a tentative step onto the smooth granite. It didn't even bob. Fully assured of her safety, the blonde Raven skipped from stone to stone, all the way up to the slightly shabby door.

* * *

-TheUnHolySmirk-

* * *

Dean Thomas was conflicted. He stared at the letter in his curled fists. It was from his mother. In it, she told him about his father. His real one.

" _I'm sorry I had to tell you in a letter._ " She wrote. " _But you need to know._ " The words sat innocently on the sheet of notebook paper that was torn from a book. Dean tried in vain to wipe the tears from the surface, only succeeding in smearing it in. His father, his _dad,_ wasn't actually his dad.

"Of course he's your dad." A voice in the back of his head defended. "He helped raise you, didn't he?"

"But he didn't conceive me. I'm not his son." He argued back bitterly. "Why would he give a flying fuck about me?"

"Whether or not he fucked your mom to make you doesn't matter." The voice angrily pointed out. "What matters is whether or not he treated you like a son. _He_ knew, but he still treated you just like your brothers."

" _Half_ -brothers." Dean thought.

"What does it matter!?" The voice asked. "They're still your brothers. You've known them forever. You look out for each other!"

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey Dean. You still in there?" The strong accent indicated that Seamus was at the door. "You feeling alright?"

Dean looked up from his reading. "Yah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a bit."

It took some time in front of the mirror, but after about two minutes, Dean was certain any sign of his inner turmoil was completely washed out.

As he laid down for bed, everyone else long since snoring away, Dean pondered what this could mean. He stared at the last line of the letter. " _I think that your father may have been like you, Dean. I remember seeing things that I could have sworn weren't possible. And your father had a strange knack of being in the right place at the right time. I had convinced myself I was being paranoid, but now…"_

Dean didn't know what to think. Could it be true? Could his father really have been a wizard like him? He didn't have time to ponder it further, as he suddenly sank into his bed and vanished, without a trace. He didn't even have a chance to scream.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter was much shorter than the first. For good reason. One, I could out the cliffie in. Two, I simply wanted to establish the remaining characters. Most of you can probably guess what's going to happen next, so I'm not even going to try and hide it. Harry, Luna, Dean and Ginny are going to be the new marauders. I have two questions for you now. Number one, pick who you want Harry to be paired with. Take in mind I already have a girl decided, but in enough people want someone else I'll give it a shot. The girl could either be in the marauders or not. NO HERMIONE! Secondly, I have names picked out, but If you can come up with better ones, I may use them, credit and cookies goes to a winner(if any). Peace all. R &R.**


	3. Hiss Hiss to You Too, Grandpa

It's Fanfiction. Of course I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Harry stared at the face in front of him. It stared back. The fact that they had very bone structure and hair didn't go unnoticed.

He had woken up from what was possibly the most peaceful sleep he had had in years, maybe ever, discounting the year and a half with his parents. The first thing he noticed was that the covers felt much heavier than they did last night. Most likely a sign of drowsy bliss. When he finally untangled himself from the sheets, his blurry eyes made out the outline of a face.

Of course he screamed out loud and shot several hexes at the intruder until he realized that the spells couldn't harm a painting. The man inside the frame simply waited for him to finish trying to damage his home before dryly saying, "Quite finished, young man?"

Said 'young man' was attempting to calm his heart rate to a normal level, diluting the adrenaline that was rushing through his veins. After gasping for air and overcoming the initial panic, he confirmed that he was, indeed, finished.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

The man stared at him with a single arched eyebrow. "You woke me up at some ungodly hour, and collapsed in the bed. I didn't have much time to make you aware of my presence, yet I've been here for years. You know you look remarkably like a young fellow I knew some time ago. I imagine it's been some time since he was around. I fell asleep when he and his band of friends left the school.

Harry recalled something that every friend of his parents has said to him at one point or another. "James Potter?"

The man looked up. "Why yes, do you know him? I'd love to see him again."

"He's dead." Harry explained without emotion in his voice. "I'm Harry. He was my father."

"Really? Then it wasn't natural causes, you're far too young. What happened?"

"Killed by Voldemort."

"Damn Bastard Snake fucker." The painting muttered.

"So you've heard of him, I take it?" Harry asked.

"Heard of him?" the painting said in frustration, "The idiot calls himself my Heir."

It took Harry a bit of time to process what the painting said. "I'm sorry, _you're_ Salazar Slytherin?"

The newly named Slytherin peered at Harry incredulously. "Well what did you expect? This painting was made when I was twenty seven years old. I'd rather immortalize myself for a millennia looking like I did in my prime, thank you very much. _Stupid Chocolate Frog card."_ Salazar hissed the last part under his breath.

Harry hissed back, " _Yeah, it isn't all that flattering of you,"_ smirking at Slytherin's shocked face. It took a second before Salazar got over his initial shock and began to laugh.

"I thought for sure that _wyrmspraec_ wasn't spoken by my line anymore!" Slytherin exclaimed in joy. "It was stolen by the _Gaunts_!" he spat out the name like it was poison.

Now it was Harry's turn to be shocked into silence. " _You're_ line?" he finally asked with high amounts of confusion.

Salazar calmed down and said, with an eyebrow raised, "Yes, _my_ line. Is that a problem?"

"But I'm not a Slytherin! I'm a Gryffindor!" Harry explained.

"So was your father," Slytherin reminded him, "I don't know what the problem is."

"Don't you hate Godric Gryffindor?" Harry asked, "I mean didn't you leave the school and create the Chamber of Secrets and-"

"The Chamber was my personal living quarters. And I had to leave Baelblis behind because she was just a baby when I left."

"You still left when you didn't want to teach muggleborns and half bloods."

"Of course I didn't want to teach them magic. I didn't want to teach at all. I almost never joined the school in the first place. Do you realize what would have happened to a first generation magic user back then? But I didn't hate them, and I allowed them to come to the school. I simply wiped the memories of them from their parents."

Harry was enraged at the nonchalant way his 'ancestor' said this. "You mean you _kidnapped children_?!"

Salazar's cold answer stopped him from ranting at his multiple great grandfather. "There was no alternative. The risk to magical children in the Olde Christian world was far too great. Toddlers were sacrificed, by parents, to some form of God that they believed in. They called us demons. Burned us and tortured us for information on our magical brethren. Our retaliation wasn't enough. No matter how many gatherings we raided, how many children we saved…" A single tear slowly fell down the face of the man, who suddenly looked every bit his thousand plus years.

"I left the school after they killed my betrothed." He spoke, his soft voice dead with forced apathy. "I went mad with grief. I became paranoid that they would come for my apprentices. My blood brother and my adopted sisters. So I gave my charges to the other three and left in my thirst for vengeance. I lost my sense of self. I refused to speak in any other language except for _wyrmspraec_ in fear of eavesdropping. I was a great wizard, and I laid waste in my path for death of the muggles wicked refusal to accept those that were different. They killed my beloved, just because she was ill."

Harry asked, half expecting the answer, "With what?"

Salazar waited a minute, before replying, " _Ghealach Mallachd_. _The Moon's Curse_."

Lycanthropy.

Nothing made sense. Harry pieced the story together, and he realized that everything he was told about Slytherin house was a lie. Voldemort wasn't the Heir of Slytherin. Slytherin hated muggles, but not simply because they weren't magical. He hated the sheep followers who were willing to commit murder of the highest degree because a child was gifted with magic. He left the school because the muggles killed his werewolf fiance. His story wasn't about him turning evil. It was a tragedy about what happens when stupid people in large groups agree that wrong is right.

"I'm sorry about your snake." Harry didn't know what else to say. "I had to kill her in second year."

Salazar gave a watery chuckle. "That wasn't mine. Bael died when she was only in her third century from a rooster crow. The stupid excuse for a serpent that was in the Chamber was added about five centuries ago. I should thank you for its extermination, as warped and bloodthirsty as it was. Snakes are normally beautiful and intelligent creatures."

"But enough of an old man's ramblings." Harry raised an eyebrow at the obvious change of topic, but left it alone. "The rest of your group is in the living room."

Harry looked up, fearful. "Ron and Hermione are _here_? I don't want to see them! How did they find this place?" The last people he wanted to see couldn't be a wall away, could they?

His fears were only accentuated when Salazar explained that he had no idea who either of those people were. With his wand at the ready, Harry cracked the bedroom door open. He blinked before opening it all the way.

"Dean? Ginny? Who's this?" Harry shook his head to clear slightly sleep addled cobwebs from his brain. "More importantly how did you get here?" He kept his wand palmed, just in case.

"My mother named me Luna. The castle brought us here, of course." She stared, wide eyed with such intensity and innocence that Harry was distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hi Luna…" he was interrupted by Ginny slamming into him and holding him in a death grip, before she became aware of her position and awkwardly stepped away, ignoring the red on her cheeks.

Harry pointed his wand at her retreating form in an attempt to look intimidating. "Why are you here? I left the Tower, and I'm not going back just so everyone can hurl abuse at me from all sides." He directed his wand at Luna, "And what do you mean 'the castle brought you here'."

She answered calmly, ignoring the wand pointed at her. "Just that."

Dean spoke up for the first time, "Harry, we have no clue where we are, except Luna, who keeps saying that we're in some cottage that floats next to the Astronomy Tower. You and I have both been there enough times to know that we've never seen anything next to the Tower."

"Of course not! It's invisible." This was said so matter-of-factly that Harry could tell she believed every word.

"That's not possible." And it wasn't. The entry to the cottage had to be above it. How else would Harry have _fallen_ in. The Astronomy Tower was above the castle. Much higher than where Harry crawled into the entrance.

" _Magic,_ Harry." Luna explained, exasperated at his ignorance, as if that was a proper explanation. Unfortunately for Harry, it probably was to most wizards.

"You never answered my question." Harry pointed his wand at the trio, two thirds of which immediately back up with their hands open in a universal "I come in peace" motion. Luna remained nonplussed, and simply stared back at the glowing holly tip.

"None of us came here from our own volition. We were taken here by Hogwarts."

"That's not an answer!"

"However not?"

Ginny let out a breath. "The castle isn't a person, Luna!" Harry could tell that this was an ongoing argument between the two.

"Then explain how you came here when you wished to go down to the kitchens." Luna said back serenely, her expression never dimming.

Ginny's silence spoke for her.

Harry didn't buy it. "So you just happened to come here, on _accident_?"

"Well of course not." Luna piped up. "Hogwarts showed me the way."

"You just said that you didn't have a choice."

"You would go against the wishes of a thousand year old magical being?"

"Get out."

"We can't Harry," Dean said. "The door won't open."

Harry ran over to the door opposite the mantle side and tried to turn the knob. Dean was correct. It wouldn't budge. Not even when Harry tapped it with his wand with a whispered _Alohomora_ charm. "What the hell?" Harry asked to no one in particular. He never expected an answer.

" _That would be_ Our _doing._ "

* * *

A/N: Sorry if it's short. If you want longer chapters, please let me know. I'll try an update much sooner this time.


	4. Crossing Lines and Solidarity

Still don't own it!

* * *

Harry Potter was rather impressed.

He made the mistake of assuming that the wizarding world couldn't shock him anymore. He'd encountered goblin bankers, shapeshifters, flying brooms, invisibility clothing, immortal birds, singing hats and gigantic three headed dogs, so it's not hard to imagine that the insanity ended there.

But then the wall grew a face and spoke to him.

That isn't entirely accurate. The wall didn't really grow anything, but the Victorian-style subtle pattern papering the walls rearranged itself to resemble a face, which was now talking to them.

That would teach him to assume anything about magic.

The face was distinctly female. That much was certain. Exaggerated eyelashes and lips saw to that particular conclusion, though it's entirely possible that it was simple a male with very interesting tastes. Does a wall even have a gender?

He must have been thinking out-loud, as the wall answered him. "I do not have what humans call a gender, but I have always been known as Lady Hogwarts."

Harry was already stressing over his status as the Heir of Slytherin, so he did the logical thing. He fainted.

* * *

Hermione Granger was mad.

That's a bit of an understatement. She was furious.

Harry should have apologized to her by now. Instead he acted all high and mighty, pretending that she didn't exist. She conveniently ignored the fact that she hadn't even attempted any contact with him either. She kept dropping subtle hints that if he only admitted to his cheating and asked for forgiveness then she would be happy to comply, but Harry was consistently too stupid to take the bait.

So naturally when she saw the Reason for her Poor Mood happily studying with Dean Thomas, of all people, something inside her snapped.

"Harry Potter, you insufferable boy! How dare you ignore me! I demand an apology for your recent actions, and you better get down on your knees in the Great Hall to tell everyone how you cheated!" She reached out to tug on his ear when Harry's slowly whitening fist gripped her wrist.

"Let go of me!"

Harry didn't say a word. "I said, let GO!" Her last word was punctuated by her wand being drawn from her bag and pointed at the offending hand. "Relashio!"

Harry immediately let go, hissing in pain. Hermione didn't even try to keep the smug smile off her face. Serves him right!

Dean did some weird thing with his hands. Hermione, who studied Sign Language in primary, knew that he was just making nonsense, so she dismissed it as a football gang sign or something. Hermione could never be bothered with sports.

Whatever it was, Harry pushed his chair back, standing up in the process. This was it. He was going to get down on his knees and beg. Hermione loved it when people grovelled. She crossed her arms and turned her nose up, refusing to look at such a pathetic sight.

She knew something was wrong when she didn't hear the inevitable sound of apologetic whimpering, so she finally looked down… just in time to see the backs of Dean Thomas and Harry Potter walking away from her.

"Don't ignore me!" she yelled, unheard by them but heard by the librarian, who kicked her out. She, Hermione Jean Granger, was kicked out of the Library! She started to see red in her vision, and sprinted out the door, ignoring the indignant cry of Madam Pince. She turned both ways looking for the idiot boys that had the gallto treat her like some common annoyance, yet they were long gone.

* * *

"'Ello there Luna." Said girl looked up at the towering man. At a full eleven and a half feet tall, he easily dwarfed the diminutive girl at five foot two inches. "'Ave yah seen 'Arry 'round here? Ah've been lookin' for 'im, and everyone says tah talk to you."

"Hello Professor Rubeus Hagrid. I have seen Harry around here, yes. He's very easy to find, just follow the nargles."

"Great! D'yah think you can point me in the right direction?" Hagrid looked very relieved.

Luna stared at the large man with her wide silver eyes and pondered what to do with Harry's first ever friend. This was the man who introduced him to his new home, yet that same home dragged him through the mud at the first opportunity. That wasn't Hagrid's fault, though. He was very kind hearted, not a mean bone is his gigantic body, whether or not he was infested with wuzzlefrumps. She decided to help him find her new friend. She pointed.

Hagrid's eyes lit up as he followed her finger to see… nothing. It was a blank wall. "Er… Is 'e in 'is Cloak?" Hagrid asked, a bit confused.

"No." Luna stated with conviction, her finger never wavering.

"Uh…" Hagrid still didn't get it. "What am I missin' here?"

"You asked me to point in his direction. He should be in that direction."

"Yeh think that I could get clearer instructions?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Rubeus Hagrid. I didn't realize that was what you meant. No."

Hagrid's face changed from happy to shocked in an instant. "Whaddaya mean 'no?'"

Luna just watched him, scanning his face for any anger at her refusal. She found none. "Fine. Follow me." She stood from her chair, and walked out of the Great Hall, ignoring all the eyes following her.

Hagrid was rooted to the spot. "What jus' happened?" He scrambled after Luna when the conversation caught up to him.

* * *

Luna led him up many stairs and floors, seemingly walking in a random pattern, going as far as to spin in a circle, walk backwards down a corridor before exiting it the way that they came. "Where are we going, Luna?" Hagrid asked after about ten minutes of walking.

"I don't know."

"Wha'?" Hagrid came to a halt. He couldn't believe it. She didn't have any idea where Harry was, she was just leading him around. "Yah mean teh tell me that you've just been wanderin' around lookin' for 'im?" Hagrid didn't get when she could possibly gain from doing do, yet he couldn't think of any other logical solution.

"Of course not. I'm following the nargles."

"Yer what now? Followin' the nergulls? What's a nergull?"

"They're faeries that have the ability to turn invisible. Notorious thieves, nargles are, though if one knows how to look, they will always lead you to the right destination."

"Huh?"

"Come on. We're almost there."

Hagrid hastened to follow her to an empty corridor. What was this?

"We're here." Hagrid looked around the corridor. The only thing of notice at the spot she stopped at was the old painting of that idiot teaching trolls ballet.

"Knock knock." Huh? Hagrid was about to ask what she meant when a voice broke out from nowhere.

"Who's there?" Hagrid turned towards the painting, yet old Barney never swayed from his dancing lessons.

"Just open the damn door, Eagle."

Hagrid jumped. Where there was previously a blank canvas of stone was now an ornately carved wooden oak door, which swung open with barely a whisper of a creak. Hagrid peeked inside and saw a mountain of gold, silver and bronze, as well as open chests full of jewellery and books. Different boxes were stacked up, some open and goodies were everywhere in disarray. Hagrid was amazed at the sheer worth everything must have had, but then Luna spoke up.

"Harry, can you turn off the Midas Box?"

Hagrid blinked. Instead of a goblin's wet dream, he saw a much less impressive study. It was lined with shelves full of books and different objects that Hagrid couldn't identify. A table in the center was full of misshapen parts and parchment drawings covered in runes and equations. The entire getup was rather cozy, if a bit chaotic.

"Rubeus Hagrid, welcome to the Marauder's Vault." Luna announced, her absently airy voice in full force.

 **A/N: Huge, huge shout out to Phoenixfromthefire, who graciously agreed to be a beta for me. Go check out her story Ten Rules. It's hilarious and short, perfect to read for a quick laugh. She(I'm assuming she's a girl from her bio) was a big help in correcting my grammar, but any mistakes left should be solely blamed on me!**


	5. Dealing with a Bushy Beaver(Part 1)

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry looked over his shoulder at Dean, slowing down a bit so that the other three could catch up to him. "Yeah?"

"I'm behind on the DADA homework. Could you give me a hand?" Dean held up his left hand in the universal 'thumbs up' sign, then pointed his pinky straight out.

"We have a shadow."

"Why ask me?" Harry answered while scratching the back of his neck.

"Who?"

Dean snorted derisively. "Cut the hippogriff crap, Harry. Granger may beat us all in everything else, but no one beats you at Defense. You know I'm worthless at it, don't make me beg.."

So Hermione was trying to follow them? Harry couldn't say he was all that shocked. If anything, he was quite surprised that it took her so long to try. "Alright then," Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb, pointer and middle fingers, before slapping his forehead.

"Maneuver two. I'll take point."

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, her voice laced with just the right mix of surprise and concern. Living with the Twins and being forced to cover for them and herself on occasion had honed her acting skills to that of a professional.

"Second."

Harry threw on a sheepish look of slight embarrassment. "I left my book in Binns."

Luna spoke up. "You're quite forgetful, you know. It's a sure sign of wrackspurts. Your head is full of them, you know."

"Third."

Harry snickered. "Never change, Luna. You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up." Her and her riffing. But if the shoe fits…

Harry turned on his heel and started to pace back the way they came. As soon as he cleared the slightly crowded corridor, he jogged down the hall towards the stairs. Clutching his bag to his chest. He got to the base of the stairs and trekked up, "accidentally" dropping a false sickle. As soon as he was out of sight he waited, crouched slightly with his wand out. As soon as he heard shoes slapping the stonework he activated the dormant charms on the small coin.

Riiiiiiip. A rather ingenious bit of magic that caused stressed seams within a certain range to tear. He heard the telltale sound of books hitting the floor and Hermione's cry of terror for her precious bundles of parchment. Harry grinned. Showtime.

"Lady Hogwarts, cut off this area, please." He whispered, though he could've shouted it and Hermione still wouldn't have heard him over her panic that one of her books could be damaged. The grind of moving stone soon followed, proving that the castle was always listening. As soon as it stopped he stepped out into the hall.

"Tsk-tsk, Hermione you know better than that. You really shouldn't overstuff your bag with heavy objects. Who knows what could happen to those books you hold in such high esteem?"

"H-Harry?" Hermione's shock lasted a second too long, and she was hit by a stunning spell from behind.

* * *

When Hermione rejoined the world of the living, she was in a room she had never seen before, stuck to an uncomfortable chair.

A rather absent, feminine voice broke the silence. "Dammit Tempus. She's up. That's not fair you've known her longer." Hermione panicked and turned her head as much as she could, yet still saw no one in the room but her.

"Don't the nargles tell you everything anyway?" A much more familiar voice asked, sarcastically. This one was male. Harry.

"Ms. Oddball thinks that Mr. Tempus doesn't understand the complexity of the nargles." The girl said back, with a very pretentious air about her.

"Ms. Oddball should very well know that no one but her can understand the complexity of nargles," Harry replied in the exact same voice.

"Mr. Sarco would like to tell both Mr. Tempus and Ms. Oddball that they both need to shut the hell up." A new voice drawled. That was Dean Thomas?

"Mr. Sarco should never emulate Malfoy, for he has his future to think about," Harry said to Dean.

"You all suck." So that must be Ginny.

"Let me go Harry, right now, or so help me God, you will regret it!"

Harry walked out in front of Hermione's line of vision, rolling a sickle between his fingers.

"Hmm," Harry pretended to think for a bit, "No I do not think that I will. You really shouldn't stalk people Granger, it's rather creepy."

"I wasn't stalking you!"

"No?" Harry's eyebrow rose, "You just happened to be walking the same direction as us, but you were so unbelievably embarrassed that you couldn't apparate yet at fifteen years old so you had to hide as well?"

"You can't apparate in Hogwarts," Hermione mumbled to herself, before looking up to see Harry gone.

"No Hermione," He whispered directly into her ear. "You can't apparate in Hogwarts."

Hermione began to shake. Harry's voice didn't sound right. It almost sounded snake-like. A hissing undertone accenting every word. "You're going dark."

"Am I?" he wondered, "And whose fault is that?"

Harry's voice had completely turned demonic, layering over itself and completely filling the room. The lights turned red and her chair began to heat up to uncomfortable temperatures. Harry was going to kill her! He was going to use her in some sort of dark ritual! She had to leave. Her arms and legs struggled to move from the chair, but she still couldn't pull them up. Tears began to leak from her eyes. She didn't want this. She just wanted to know what Harry did without them. Her panic only increased her tears. "P-please don't, I'm sorry," she sobbed.

Harry's eyes turned completely black. "You brought this upon yourself," the voice mourned. Harry smiled, his canines lengthening to razor sharp fangs. "Let's see how muddy your blood really is," he laughed.

* * *

Hermione still hadn't said a word. Harry canceled the charm on his eyes so that he could see properly. Her head was leaned forward, and not a sound escaped her.

"I think-" Harry coughed and tapped his wand against his throat, canceling the voice modifier. "I think she passed out." His voice was slightly hoarse from the strain on his vocal chords.

"Did she really?" Luna piped up. "I'll take my sickle back if you please." Harry laughed and tossed the silver coin to her, hoping she'd have to pick it up. He was disappointed. Luna's reflexes had always been nearly perfect when she wished.

"I really thought she would last longer than that."

"What gave you that idea?" Ginny asked. "When had she ever been the pinnacle of bravery?"

Harry thought back to the previous years. In their first year, she set fire to a teacher, a plant, unlocked a door and solved a pretty simple logic puzzle. The bravest thing she probably did was setting Snape alight, and even that only risked a detention. Their second year she went to the library and tore out a book page. Then she got petrified. Their third year she messed with time in order to attend class, but she did do one thing.

"She helped break out Sirius with her Time-Turner." Harry pointed out. "She must have been pretty scared then."

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you to? He came up with the idea, he helped with the alibi, and he even gave instruction as to how. She was just following a teacher like she always does." Luna explained.

"Huh. I guess you're right."

"Do we wipe her memory?" Dean asked. "She knows who we are."

"No. You know how I feel about that. Even if it is Granger." Harry denied.

"She isn't going to keep quiet with her own will. What else do you suggest to shut her up."

Luna smiled wickedly. "I may have an idea."

* * *

Hermione woke up a second time to the familiar and comforting smell of books. She was in the library, though this time she was tied to her chain. A voice broke her thoughts. "Hello, Hermione Granger."

Hermione looked up. In front of her was a girl, younger than her. Maybe a year or two. Her blonde hair was long and curled, if in a bit of a disarray. She had large vacant eyes, colored like a Patronus. She had two small radishes hanging from her ears, and a multitude of charms. On her neck rested a string of caps from various brands of butterbeer.

"You're Luna Lovegood."

"I am."

Silence.

Hermione broke it. "Well, what do you want?"

"I want many things Hermione Granger, you are going to have to be more specific."

"I mean what do you want with me."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Luna smiled wide. "I would like it if you didn't tell anyone about what you saw today."

Hermione was appalled. "You attacked me! Harry has gone dark! He threatened to kill me!"

"Harry was only joking. He's like that sometimes." Luna never broke her smile, and it began to creep Hermione out.

"He apparated in Hogwarts! That's not possible. He had to have used dark magic!"

"I didn't know dark magic was impossible. I wonder how Voldemort does it."

That stopped her in her tracks. What? "Dark magic isn't impossible, who told you that?"

"Why you did, silly," Luna explained patiently. She didn't elaborate.

"I most certainly did not!" Hermione scolded her. What was this girl's problem? Then it dawned on her. Mental Illness isn't something that the Wizarding World had ever heard of, so this girl probably didn't realize she was so infuriating. "I mean- I don't recall ever speaking to you." Poor girl.

"Yes you have," she replied. "Just a second ago, in fact. Harry said you had a very good memory. I guess he was misinformed." Her dreamy smile didn't waver.

Hermione was insulted before she reminded herself how hard it must be to live like Luna did. She swallowed it down and tried to keep calm. "My memory is nigh perfect, I just meant before today."

"And you didn't meet me before today."

More silence.

"What?"

"You said that dark magic is impossible, today." That smile had far surpasses creepy.

"No, I didn't, that must have been someone else." Hermione immediately put on her kindest smile.

"Is your face quite alright?" Luna asked her. What was wrong with her face? Poor girl must be hallucinating, possibly schizophrenia. She added more warmth to her smile. "My face is just fine, thank you."

"It just got worse. You look like a nargle lifted your heart into your throat and told you to pity the peasants under you."

Now that was definitely an insult. Schizophrenia or not, the girl was being rude. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh dear, it's worse than I thought. I guess I have to move on to plan 'B'." She sighed, her posture straightening and her eyes clearing of a portion of their dreaminess. "Do you know where we are, Hermione?"

"The Library."

"Mhmm. And what do you do in a library?"

"You read."

"Precisely. Could you please read this for me?"

Hermione looked down at the parchment slipped in front of her. It was covered in unintelligible scrawls and scribbles, vaguely alluding to familiar symbols that she didn't understand. "No. What language is it?"

"English."

What? Hermione looked back down. "I'm serious."

"So am I."

"It clearly isn't!"

Luna pulled the parchment towards her. "'The Stunning Spell, known more commonly by its incantation, stupify, originated in parts of feudal Japan. It was commonly used by peasants who didn't want to have to remove dead bodies. They would hide in the shadows and throw an enchanted projectile that put its victims to sleep, before liberating them of their valuables.'" Hermione recognized the text. She wrote it after all.

"That's my backup essay for Defense. How do you know it?"

"I'm reading it right here."

"No, you are not!"

Luna pulled out a familiar leather-bound book. "You know what this is?"

"It's Hogwarts, a History."

"Mhmm. Your personal copy to be exact. I believe your mother wrote you a note on the inside cover. I want you to read it for me." Luna slid the book across the table, opened.

Hermione gasped. Her hands began to quake and tears welled up in her eyes. There, right in front of her, was a series of unintelligible squiggles. Luna flipped to the first page, and it too was completely defaced.

"If you haven't realized by now, I have removed your ability to read. Now, in return for your silence, I will give it back, so long as you understand that we can take it away if we wish. Should you cross me, Harry or any of us, you can say goodbye to the thing you cherish above all else." This time Luna wasn't smiling. "You should have left us alone."

More tears forced themselves from Hermione's eyes, as the weight of her actions and their consequences began to crash around her.

 **HEY! So I got my first guest reviewer... YAY! He(or she) was extremely helpful and I'll make sure to incorporate his(or her) input in the next few chapters. Because I haven't updated in so long before now, I didn't send it to my beta as I wasn't sure she was still willing to, well, beta.**


	6. Flitwick Flips

To the guest who nitpicked my use of witch hunting… I looked it up… ur totally right. Uhh… creative license? I'm really sorry about that, it's just such a common trope that I sorta assumed it was true… I really can't think of much else to replace it with, so I'll leave it as is, but thank you so much for your support, kind words, and useful criticism. I don't mind the history lesson, by all means, send me more. Better yet, make an account so I can check by you directly… XD

To the other guest who talked about my use of the sign language, thank you as well. I did Italicize, but FF is weird and didn't translate. I've recently gained word and have begun the transfer to make it easier, but I will use ur advice in the future.

Also, yes the reading part was blatantly stolen from Do Not Meddle in the Affairs of Wizards. It's an amazing story, and it has the perfect punishment for Hermione.

The brackets indicate flashback.

I'm so sorry about what happened to this chapter! I have no clue what happened. Hopefully it works.

* * *

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's prim and proper speech was easily distinctable in any situation, especially a relatively quite breakfast hall in the earlier morning. Harry had long since started to eat in the kitchens or early enough so that there were very few people were present to insult and berate him.

Harry looked up from his sausages into the face of a very angry scot. "May I help you, Professor?" Harry asked as politely as he could to the authoritarian. She routinely said nothing and turned her eye when he was degraded and insulted by essentially the entire school, even having the gall to look disappointed in him. She was there when Moody deducted it was all a plot against his life.

"Come with me." Uh oh. He recognized that voice. She was mad. Hopefully not at him.

Hoping to avoid her formidable ire, Harry made sure to make as little noise as possible as he walked down the hall towards McGonagall's office.

Upon entering his eyes zoomed in on Luna, sitting contently on a wooden chair, Flitwick standing next to her, very obviously berating her. The diminutive man was positively shaking with suppressed rage. Harry have never known the man to seriously scold a student, always keeping calm and using kind words. That image was shattered by his furious ranting.

"-interrupt the learning of one of this institutions most valued students! Miss Granger did not deserve you're cruel and unusual punishment, you stupid girl! You had no right to treat her that way, no matter what you think she may have done!" Harry had heard enough.

"Hey!" Flitwick froze. He schooled his features, cleared his throat, and turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I would like you to ask Miss Lovegood to remove the spell she put on Miss Granger." Of all the things that Harry had thought of, that particular request wasn't even on the list.

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"Miss Lovegood has cast a terrible spell on Miss Granger, one that removed her ability to read." Flitwick explained, as if that explained anything.

Harry still didn't understand, so he didn't say anything. Instead he fiddled with his tie, folding the end in on itself twice. _"When was this?"_

No one who didn't know her well would have caught the focus creeping in form the sides of her normally absent eyes. She rubbed her hands together, as if she were cold, sliding them back and forth across each other twice before breathing into her cupped palms. _"Two days ago."_

Harry itched his right temple. _"Got it."_ He cleared his throat, before addressing Flitwick. "I'm still not sure what it is you'd like me to do, Professor."

"Miss Granger has made it clear that Miss Lovegood has done this on your orders, and since all attempts made by us to remove the spell have failed, you must instruct Miss Lovegood to do it." So Hermione had tried to throw him under the bus, had she?

"Sir, I didn't order Luna to do anything. I don't really have any authority to boss her around. We haven't been friends very long, you see, I had recently realized that I needed to expand my horizon past Gryffindor tower, and we met barely a few weeks ago." Harry made sure to be clear and concise, squeezing the Interrogation Idol he held in his pocket. His artificial calm soothed his nerves, and he conveyed total confidence.

The Idol, along with many other useful books and knick knacks, was found by the Marauders in a large room on the seventh floor. It was marked on the map simply as "The Vault" and it seemed to have a strange sentience. As soon as they thought of something they needed, The Vault created it. It was a masterpiece, and strangely enough, the only thing in The Vault that didn't come with a calling card pointing to its creator. They had learned something extremely useful, though. The Marauders, the group Harry had assumed his father created as a boy, was actually as old as the castle itself.

["Welcome, new Marauders, Generation LVII." Dean read off the plaque they found on the back wall.

Harry had asked if he wanted to explore the halls with him and Dean agreed. They had been walking for about a half hour when Harry stopped him. He turned toward the wall and muttered the golden phrase under his breath. Dean looked at him in confusion and was about to ask what he was doing when a large oak door appeared.

"Marauders?" Harry perked up.

"That's what it says." Dean frowned. He hadn't ever heard of these 'Marauders', though apparently, Harry had.

Harry opened up the old ratty parchment that he kept staring at every so often. He held it up to Dean, pressing his wand against the center crease. "Watch this. I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Dean could only gape as lines drew themselves onto the sheet, slowly creating the contours of halls, stairs and towers. It was a- "Map. It's a map of Hogwarts."

"The Marauders' Map." Harry emphasized. "This was created by my father and his friends, to help them avoid capture from teachers when they went out pranking. Fred and George got their hands on it in their first year, and they gave it to me last year. I later learned that the Marauders were a group my dad made with his roommates. He was a Marauder, as was Professor Lupin and two others."

Dean looked back up to the plaque, before giving a shout of surprise. "Look! It changed."

Harry peered back up at the plaque, and sure enough, the previous welcoming was gone, replaced by a smaller text and a button. He read it outloud.

"Greetings, Son of Prongs." He stopped, surprised at the title, before continuing. "You have found the Vault located at Our Heart. We commend you. Prepare to receive the mantle taken by many before you, and add to the collection of the Marauders' Legacy." Dean and Harry turned towards each other. They knew of two people who spoke of themselves as a collective 'we', and they were positive this wasn't left by the Queen.]

Harry was broken by his reminiscing when Flitwick finished his rather long winded explanation on how Luna's actions were essentially heresy and that Harry was the only one who could save her damned soul. "Sir, I've explained multiple times now. I can't tell Luna to do anything." Flitwick's face purpled, very similarly to a certain large muggle Harry had known his whole life. He winced involuntarily.

Flitwick must have seen this, as he quickly calmed down and backed off. He sighed in disappointment. "Well, seeing as I cannot convince you otherwise, Miss Lovegood, I'm afraid that I will have to submit a request for your expulsion from this school, on grounds of assault, interruption of the learning process, complete and total lack of rem-"

"Wait, Professor!" Harry 'pleaded', "You can't!"

"No I cannot, but Professor McGonagall can. Minerva, I believe that my reasoning is sound?"

McGonagall sounded somber. "I believe it is, Filius. Miss Luna Selene Lovegood, as of this day, November the Fifteenth, One-thousand Nine-hundred Ninety-four, you are, hereby, ex-"

"STOP!" Harry shouted, panic creeping into his voice. "Professor if you expel her, then I will withdraw from Hogwarts."

Both professors stared at him in shock, unsure if they heard him properly. Then McGonagall broke out in a shaky laugh.

"Don't make empty threats, Mr. Potter," McGonagall chided. "You don't even have the paperwork."

"If you can expel Luna with just your words then I can withdraw the same way." Harry's fist went white against the Idol. He was taking a complete shot in the dark here.

"Really Mr. Potter?" she asked, calling his bluff.

"I, Mr. Harry James Potter, do hereby, as of November the Fifteenth, One-thousand Nine-hundred Ninety-four, withdraw from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wiz-"

"POTTER, STOP!" Harry froze mid sentence. So it was possible? That's useful to know.

"You want me here, Professors?" Harry asked, secretly disgusted by the blatant favoritism. "Then I suggest you do not remove one of the only things keeping me at your wretched school." Harry was riding completely on a gamble, hoping his bluff payed off. He couldn't leave Hogwarts, he was a Marauder! Guardian of Levity and Fun in an establishment of drudgery. But the professors didn't know that. Hogwarts was, and always will be, his home.

Luna's eyes went wide, betraying more emotion than she had during the entire debacle.

"If you could, Professor," Harry continued, "please tell me how Miss Granger came to discover this unfortunate symptom?"

McGonagall preened. "Ms. Granger came into my room, claiming she had something very important to tell me. She happened to spot the chalkboard, and she screamed out loud, before beginning to cry. I could barely understand her story between the sobs. She refused to say what she was going to in the first place, simply saying over and over that 'She' was serious. She then collapsed, and is in her dorm recovering. I learned that the 'she' in question was Ms. Lovegood."

"Luna, what did you do, exactly?" Harry asked, crossing his hands behind his back. _"Good work."_

"Intent based dormant psycho-illusion with a tied in mental block."

"So if Ms. Granger wants to do something specific, she loses her ability to recognize the written word?" Harry asked. "But only she will experience the change?" Luna nodded. "Ingenious."

"I don't care how clever it was, or how astounding the magic!" Flitwick interrupted, practically spitting. "I simply want her to remove it!"

"I'm getting there, Professor." Harry bit back, malice leaking through the Idol at being interrupted. "Did you use the Mind Arts to tie it directly to her head, or did you ward something on her person, which scanned her intent?"

"Yes." Luna responded. Harry wanted to chuckle, but at Flitwick's increasing ire and McGonagall's rising fury, he moved on.

"Which one did you use?

"Direct."

"Well there you have it." Harry said with finality.

"Do you mean to tell me," Flitwick clarified with completely ice, "That if Ms. Granger tells anyone what she knows, then she will lose her ability to read forever?"

"From what I gather," Harry conceded, "yes. In order to be cured of this ailment, she simply mustn't do whatever it is that Luna doesn't want her to."

Flitwick purpled.

McGonagall chimed in. "Ms. Lovegood has enslaved her?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course not. This particular set of magic was normally used to conceal secrets, though it fell out of style when the Unbreakable Vow entered the picture. Most likely, Ms. Lovegood told Ms. Granger a secret in confidence and Ms. Granger tried to break that trust. If she does so completely, then she will lose what she loves most, forever."

* * *

I know! I suck at updating! I'm sorry! :( School is a bitch, plus I'm developing my portfolio, bunch of relatives were here for the holiday… ugh. Thank you Phoenix, as always


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